Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
If this were a movie, now would be the part when the screen gets all blurry, a harp starts
playing, and the dream sequence begins.
The speaker dreams of "fading" out of the world, of just disappearing in a very quiet way.
He wants to forget about those things that the nightingale has never had to worry about.
Again, we don't know much about which things he means specifically, but we assume
they must have to do with the stresses and cares of living in human society.
The bird is free of such cares.
Lines 23-24
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Wait, this is supposed to be a dream sequence: why is he talking about these depressing
things? It seems just he just can't leave the world behind.
The world is full of tired and "weary" people, sickness ("fever"), and massive stress
("fret"). He reduces all of society down to one depressingly exaggerated image: people
sitting around and listen to each other "groan" and complain.
That's a pretty bleak view of the world, but it just goes to show how much of an effect the
nightingale has had on him. Compared to the nightingale's carefree song, our voices
sound like groans.
Lines 25-26
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
He decides to take the whole depressing images thing to a new level, describing the world
as a place where the uncontrollable movements of illness shake the "last gray hairs" on a
dying man's head. Palsy is a disease the causes sudden involuntary movements, and so
this gray-hair person is no long capable of controlling his own body.
He's also almost bald.
In this section, Keats confronts one of his favorite enemies: time. After you read this
poem, check out the "Ode on a Grecian Urn" in which he tries magically to stop time.
Time is the speaker's enemy because it causes young and beautiful people to turn old,
"pale," thin as a ghost, and, eventually, dead as a doornail.
Put simply, time = death, death = bad, so time = bad.
Lines 27-28
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,